


The 66th Hunger Games

by BoredAmusedWriter



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Careers (Hunger Games), F/M, Hunger Games, Love Confessions, Murder, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-29
Updated: 2020-06-26
Packaged: 2021-01-12 05:28:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 18,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21229088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BoredAmusedWriter/pseuds/BoredAmusedWriter
Summary: Cadmus Easton is reaped at 15 in the 66th Hunger Games. Leaving District 9 for the Capitol, Cadmus learns his fellow tribute, Leina, could be both an ally and a great burden. Let the games begin!





	1. Tribute

"Cadmus, are you coming?"

"W-what? Where?" My cot groans as I shift beneath the covers. Camden stands before me, fully clothed and ready for the Reaping. _ Oh shit, the Reaping. _ My eyes widen. 

“It's only six o'clock,” he says with a smile. “Me and Dad are going to the market, you wanna come?"

"Yeah, I’ll get ready." I swing my feet onto the floor, taking in the sunlight beginning to come through the window. I grab my reaping clothes, neatly folded in a pile under my bed and cross the room to the shower. It stands in the corner of our one-room tenement behind a makeshift curtain. I start it up and wait, listening to the pressure build. _ Yes! _A smirk spreads across my face that only grows wider when warm water sprays into my palm. 

"Camden! I asked you not to wake him." Mom says from the kitchen. 

“I asked him to,” I say matter-of-factly from behind the curtain, “I wanted to beat the Lorenzo’s to the warm water.” Mom doesn’t respond but I can almost see the glare she must be giving my brother. I step into the steel tub feeling my muscles relax in the warmth. 

I dress in my reaping clothes, handed down from Camden, which are the common button-up shirt and khaki pants. My mom hemed the pants perfectly, I notice as I slip into the dress shoes Camden used before his growth spurt. Unfortunately hand-me-downs no longer included shoes. By the time my father makes it back with firewood for tonight’s meal, I’m at the table drinking a cup of tea. Dad shoots Camden a disapproving look before turning to me. "Hey bud, you coming this morning?” 

“Yeah, Mr. Martin said he’d give me any leftover produce he didn’t sell this morning.” 

“That was kind of him,” Dad says with a furrowed brow. For a moment I feel guilty and wish I hadn’t said anything. Sure it’s weird to accept handouts from Mr. Martin considering people in our district never have enough food nevermind any leftover. But today is different and on Reaping Day you can barter with pity.

After Camden and I finish our tea we kiss mom goodbye and follow Dad down a couple flights of stairs out into the cold morning. It’s a short walk to the market in our District, I shove my hands in my pockets, taking in the crisp air. Normally I’d visit the market once a week usually on Fridays before work but with the grain mill closed for Reaping Day the market is crowded and noisy as people barter for supplies.

"Sorry. About Mom and Dad giving you a hard time," I say to Camden. 

He lets out a sigh. "It’s okay, I should have listened to them."

"We go to the market every year on Reaping Day, why should this year be different?" 

"They're just worried about you man,” he says.

“Babying me won’t change a thing Camden.” I drop the conversation to greet a family in passing. Dad shakes hands with the man and his wife. It takes a moment to recognize them from the grain mill, it’s strange to see people out of their work clothes and dressed up for once. 

Dad stops at a stand with canvas bags filled to the brim with beans and rice. The merchant is an elderly woman with gray hair so thin you can see her scalp. She smiles a toothless smile but from her hollow cheeks it’s clear she has little, if any teeth. I take this as my cue to wander off without explanation, leaving Camden to spectate.

Mr. Martin’s produce stand is one of the last in the row between brick buildings that once served for grain storage. Our district’s market once lived in one of these abandoned buildings but was forced outside without reason; other than so they can police us better. We are told to avoid the alley after the market closes at six. Talk is the buildings are used as a base for Peacekeepers...But I know the truth.

“Hey Cadmus,” Mr. Martin’s waves me over. “How you been?”

“Good sir, how are you today?” I reach across the table to shake his hand. Mr. Martin is luckier than most. His home garden allows him an extra income on top of working at the mill. His table is almost depleted of produce. He isn’t rich by any means but better off than most, and his children have never had to put extra names in the reaping lottery in exchange for food.

“Good Cadmus, it’s good to see you. I set aside some produce for you.” He reaches under the counter for a canvas bag and offers it to me.

“Thank you sir, I don’t know what to say.”

“Don’t mention it my boy, I consider you a son.” He comes around the counter. “Remember,” he places a hand on my shoulder, “I’m here if you ever want to talk. I know how close Jacob was with you and my daughter.”

My gaze drops to the ground. “Thank you sir, I appreciate that.” I manage to look at him in the eyes. I can’t reciprocate a smile and I find myself desperately wanting to run away and be anywhere but here when Daniela appears behind us. 

“Hey Dad,” my stomach sinks at the sound of her voice. I turn to see Mr. Martin’s daughter standing slightly taller than I remember, or maybe it’s her reaping shoes. “Hey Cadmus,” she manages a smile.

“Hi Daniela. It’s nice to see you,” I lie. I force a smile but my heart is racing. Her hair is curly, falling at shoulder length. Her brown eyes regard me with an intense curiosity I feel my body starting to sweat. 

“It’s nice to see you too, you look nice.” 

“Thanks. You look nice to. May the odds be.”

She smiles and repeats: “May the odds be.” A blessing our district says to those up for the reaping lottery. Luckily her name is only in the lottery four times since she’s fifteen years old and has never taken any tesserae. My name is in nine times at fifteen years old, since I’ve put my name in five times, once for Jacob’s family and the others for mine.

I turn to Mr. Martin. “Thanks again sir, I can’t thank you enough. See you around Daniela.” I turn to leave, taking deep breaths until I’ve put some distance between us. Pretending to be drawn to stand with leather wallets and belts I stand among the crowd. 

_ I can’t avoid her forever, especially at school. But it was stupid to go to her father’s stand, even if he did offer to give me this. _I clutch the canvas bag in a fist

Finally I wander the market in search my dad or brother but they aren’t at any of the stands dad frequents. When I work up the courage to go back in the other direction, towards the Martin’s stand I stop short. My dad speaks with Mr. Martin insisting he takes money from him. Daniela stands between them watching her father shake his head, respectfully declining.

I take a sharp breath. All I can focus on is putting one foot in front of the other and soon I’m away from the market and tears are burning in my eyes blurring the ground before me. I stop next to a tree, allowing myself a few minutes to hide the fact I’ve been crying before walking the rest of the way.

When I get home my mother stands in the kitchen. I drop the canvas sac on the table, mumble a excuse about feeling tired, and go to my cot pulling the blanket that dives the room shut. The coat groans as I plop down and pretend to fall asleep; however my father and brother arrive a moment later. 

“Is Cadmus here?” Camden asks.

“Yes, he just got back. Why didn’t he wait on you? He seemed upset” My mother says. I hear my father sigh and a chair scrapes against the floor.

“I think he saw me paying for the produce Mr. Martin gifted him.”

My blood boils and before I can stop myself I’m pulling back the curtain and shouting. “Why would you do that? He offered to give me that!”

Camden stares back in shock, lowering the banana he pulled from the sack on the table. All my father can do is sit there and stare, so it’s my mother that comes over. “Honey, please calm down. Your father—”

“No Mom,” I sob. “He offered!” I walk over to the table. “What did you say to him? Huh? Did Daniela hear you?”

“Please Cadmus,” my father starts but I am so angry I won’t allow him to explain.

“You shouldn’t have done that!” I continue.

My mother comes over. “Sweetheart you know your father doesn’t like for you to accept anything from anyone.”

“He offered Mom,” I take a deep breath. “I didn’t steal. Didn’t take tesserae from the Capitol. I just wanted us to have a little more for dinner tonight.”

“But Cadmus,” my brother speaks up. “You know Dad tells us not to accept things out of pity. That men work for their daily bread.”

“Shut up! I wasn’t asking you!” I fire back. “Dad if you care about pity so much why have you and Mom been fussing over me ever since Jacob died? Like it helps to ask me if everything’s okay, every single day. You only make things worse. And now you go and embarasses me like that.”

My father lowers his gaze for a moment and when he finally gathers his thoughts he motions for me to sit. I begrudgingly take the seat across from him and wait for an explanation.

“Son, what I did was wrong. I’m sorry.”

I meet his eyes. “That’s it?”

He continues, “I can’t imagine how rough things have been since your friend died and I’m sorry if your mother and I haven’t handled this well. Thank you for thinking of us,” he glances at the canvas bag on the table. “Will you forgive me?”

Tears stream down my face. “Yes, I do.” I move over to hug him, burying my face in his shoulder to cry. “It was my fault Dad. I shouldn’t have told Jacob about the warehouse. If I had stopped him from breaking in he’d be alive.”

He doesn’t react. And I can’t be sure if he heard me but it feels good to finally speak those words out loud.

After helping mom prepare tonight’s meal we sit around the table sharing a loaf of bread and fruit from the canvas bag. We talk and enjoy the tart strawberries, blackberries, and blueberries. Dad plants a kiss on my head and does the same to Camden and says “It’s time to go.” 

At 7:30 we head into town. The walk into town is about fifteen minutes from our building. Along the way we cross a rusty bridge over a dry ditch and a few tenements. Almost everyone in District 8 lives in tenements, except those slightly better off like Daniela’s family. Usually about four stories tall tenements pack each family in a single room. As we walk I recognize several families that converge on our path but no one says a word so the walk remains painfully quiet.

Armed peacekeepers roam the streets around the square. Spotting them from a distance is enough to make me uneasy, when one of them appears next to us my body tenses. They are the reason parents tell their children to stay away from the square. We’re right to be afraid when they guard this area day and night, and won’t hesitate to kill you for so much as a staring too long.

I relax once we reach the square. Camden and I nod at our parents and move forward, losing them in the tangle of people. Every kid up for the reaping, ages twelve through eighteen, lines up to sign in. Family members and remaining residents surround the perimeter of the square. I walk with my brother for a bit, but then I pick a slower pace and watch him disappear into the line. We promised before my first reaping to never say goodbye. 

_ “Tributes have time for that once they’re picked,” he said. “But don’t worry, they won’t pick either one of us.” _ It was reassuring, but it didn’t stop the nightmares.

_ “Cadmus it’s okay,” he would whisper in the dark. “If they pick you...I’ll volunteer.” _

_ “Really?” I could barely speak in between sobs. _

_ “I’m your older brother. I won’t let anything happen to you, I promise...Shhh, now go to sleep.” _

The woman at the sign-in table holds out her palm expectantly, brandishing a cylinder instrument. Without meeting my eyes she takes my index finger. I look away wincing at the sting. She presses my finger on a Capitol form, creating a red blotch. This is how they keep track of all the kids in the lottery. Apparently they don’t see enough of our blood in the games. In a swift motion the woman in white scans the blotch with rectangular device, that beeps displaying my profile: ** _Easton, Cadmus. 15. Male._ **

Keeping my gaze low I make my way to the section for my age group. A knot forms in my throat. Taking deep breaths I stare up a the Justice Building, studying the pillars, the stage set up before it, and the reaping bowl next to the microphone. After a moment the mayor of District 8, Clyde Barron speaks into the microphone welcoming everyone. As usual he begins by reading the history of Panem, a nation that rose from the ashes of a place once called North America. He proceeds to tell the history behind the Dark Days. A bloody war between the Capitol and the rebelling Districts that ended with the Treaty of Treason, which gave us the yearly reminder of our districts’ betrayal: The Hunger Games.

He read it so proudly, puffing up his chest with each breath. I want to punch the guy. Clyde is not a popular man. When I was younger my mother warned me of playing with the mayor’s kids, telling me that they were close with the Capitol and could 

bring us trouble. I didn’t really understand what she meant back then, but as I grew older I understood the resentment people felt. From the size of his gut and clothes on his back people can tell he’s better off than all of us. And I have a hard time seeing his position being handed out without some sort of alliance with President Snow.

I tune in just as he introduces Ophelia, our district’s only Victor. She stands to scattering applause offering a quick smile and a wave at the crowd. I stand on my tippy-toes, straining as I watch her return to her chair, her blacks curls bouncing as she walks. She looks about my mother’s age but I can’t really tell. Reapings are the only time she’s ever seen in public and I can’t really blame her. If I had her life and a home in the Victor’s Village, you couldn’t pay me to leave.

Next to her, Lotus Bertram, our district’s escort, springs up as she’s introduced. She ruffles her bright-teal dress and prances to the podium. Her nasal tone takes me by surprise every year as she expresses how excited she is. ”Now it’s time to select our tributes, who will be representing District 9 in the 66th Annual Hunger Games!”

“Ladies first,” she announces. She reaches into the glass ball holding the girls’ names. Still straining to see, I watch as she pulls out a slip of paper. Following it carefully with my eyes, the slip of paper is unfolded and the name is read into the microphone. “Leina Skeep.”

Somewhere in the crowd there is commotion. Resisting the urge to look—like most of the boys around me—I keep my eyes trained on the stage, knowing if the girl does step forward she will be forced onto the stage by peacekeepers. A few seconds later the girl approaches the stage, two peacekeepers follow closely behind. 

Lotus welcomes her to the stage, placing her off to the left. The girl is pale with strawberry-blonde hair and a thin frame. Her expression both scared and confused. I watch as her head scans the crowd, probably searching for her family in the crowd.

As usual, Lotus asks for a volunteer. Another girl of age willing to take the place of the tribute in the games. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her around, so I can’t be sure she has any sisters but even if she did it probably wouldn’t matter. District 9 has never had a volunteer before.

“And now, for the boys,” Lotus says. In the back of my mind I hear my brother’s voice. _ “If they pick you...I’ll volunteer. I’m your older brother. I won’t let anything happen to you, I promise...” _ I silence his voice immediately and focus on Lotus as she walks to the second glass ball. _ Not me, please not me. Anyone but me... _ I tell myself over and over.

She reaches into the glass ball with the boys’ names and pulls out a slip of paper. My heart is beating faster and faster, anxiety building in my chest. My thoughts running wild, focusing on all the things I tried to ignore before. Focusing on the nine slips of paper with my name written on them. I clench my jaw. I think back to my first reaping and the ones that followed, each year spent dreading this very moment, each year the same...except this year now that Jacob is dead. I think back to the night we broke into the warehouse. _ What were we thinking? It should have been me instead. _

“Cadmus Easton,” the District 9 escort calls my name.


	2. Goodbye

My name echoes in the square. The silence lasts a moment before the crowd shifts and chatter fills the air.

“Cadmus? Where are you dear?” Lotus scans the crowd.

My head snaps up in attention. I want to move. To run away but I’m paralyzed in place. The boy next to me gives me a daring look as if reading my thoughts. The rest of them watch me intently--they can’t possibly know my name but I guess it doesn’t matter, once a name is read it can’t be hard to find a frightened expression amongst a crowd of relieved ones.

“Here they come,” someone says behind me. 

Instantly I put one foot in front of the other and begin on the path the crowd cleared to the stage. From the corner of my eye I see the Peacekeepers springing up behind me. Lotus beams as I climb the stairs, guiding me to the spot next to Leina. She approaches the mic and asks for a volunteer.

I find myself searching the crowd but Camden is lost in the crowd of boys. It’s foolish to hold him to a promise he made when we were kids but I can’t deny I was hopeful. Finally the window to volunteer ends and I’m left wondering if he’d even considered it.

“Oh wonderful!” Lotus squeals. “Now shake hands.” 

I stretch out my hand but Leina remains in a daze facing the crowd. Lotus steps away from the mic and prompts her again. When she turns her eyes are bloodshot, her gaze drops to my hand as she shakes it.

“Our tributes from District 9!” Lotus squeals into the mic as if this were an immense honor. “Happy Hunger Games and may the odds be ever in your favor!”

The Capitol anthem plays and suddenly Peacekeepers surround us and were directed into the Justice Building behind us. They take me into a windowless room with only a velvet couch, a desk, and a couple of mismatched chairs. I give myself credit for not crying in front of the cameras but as soon as the door slams shut I burst into tears. 

This is the part where tributes say goodbye to their family and friends. The thought shakes me to my core but before I can continue crying the doorknob begins to turn. When the door opens my parents slip inside and the door slams shut. I wipe my tears and turn to face them only to begin crying again. 

I embrace them both. “Where’s Cadmen?”

“They only let two visitors in at a time, he’ll be in next” My mother sobs. “Oh my boy.”

“We don’t have much time,” I say. Wishing not to spend this time crying. “Mom, Dad I’m sorry about this morning. I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s okay son.” 

“No Dad, it wasn’t. You two have been the best parents but ever since Jacob died I’ve been so angry and it wasn’t fair to take it on you guys. I’m sorry.”

“It’s in the past son,” my father embraces me again and so does my mom but then the Peacekeepers are at the door. We exchange ‘I love you’s’ saying our final goodbyes as they’re pulled away before the door slams shut.

A few seconds pass and then the doorknob turns again. Camden marches into the room. He’s tall and stocky, if I ever envied his build I do so even more now wishing I had a physical advantage going into the games. He embraces me almost knocking the wind out of me. “Cadmus, you have to be strong. Stay away from the careers and train as best you can before the games.”

“Just like when we were kids,” I say. Recalling how we’d pretend as kids, chasing and wrestling each other to the ground in mock hunger games. 

“You were always faster than the other kids though, remember that.”

“This won’t be the same,” I say. “I don’t think I can outrun them all.”

“You have to try! Don’t give up okay?” 

Then the doorknob turns startling us both. Camden spring forward to embrace me. “I’m sorry Cadmus, it should have been me.”

“Don’t say that,” I insist as the Peacekeepers pull him away. “I didn’t expect you to volunteer, no one did.” And before the door closes I tell him I love him.

I sit on the couch burying my face in my hands and wait for the Peacekeepers to return to collect me. Leina and I will be on the next train to the Capitol, the realization makes my stomach sink when the door flies open. A girl enters the room her curly hair is almost caught in the door as it slams shut. 

“Daniela,” I stand. “What are you doing here?”

She stays near the door nervously wringing her hands. “I...wanted to come...and say goodbye.” 

“Thanks, erm…” I rack my brain for a better response but come up short. My mind if flooded with memories of Jacob and how close Daniela and I used to be...Under these circumstances I realize how much I’ve missed her. “Please sit with me.”

We settle into the couch, the act so nonchalant that it’s almost as if time has slowed down. As if we’re back on the rooftop of our building hanging out staring up at the stars waiting for the shouts from the firescape to put an end to our fun.

“Are you scared?” She finally asks.

“Shitless,” I admit.

“That was a stupid question, sorry.”

A smile spreads on my lips. “Yeah, it kind of was.”

She blushes bright red. “Shut up, you know what I mean. It’s just...I can’t believe this. I feel like I’m losing another friend but I don’t want to see it that way.” 

I finally meet her eyes. “Promise me you won’t watch. Believe me I wish I hadn’t seen Jacob die that night.”

“I promise,” she says. Her curls bounce as she scoots closer and embraces me. “Now you promise me you’ll stop blaming yourself for that.”

We both startle when the door opens but she hugs me tighter and whispers into my ear. “Please be strong.” We say goodbye as the Peacekeepers pull her away and I’m left alone.

Seconds later the Peacekeepers return, two of them escort me through the building and out the back exit into a vehicle. Lotus sits in the middle with Leina and I on either side. It’s the first time I’ve seen a car let alone been in one but as soon as the door locks the car lurches forward. Not five minutes later we arrive at the station, a crowd of people have gathered to send us off, contained by an army of Peacekeepers. As I climb the stairs behind Lotus the crowd watches us intently. We’re directed to stand on the platform and wave goodbye to our district one last time. 

“Straight ahead at the cameras,” Lotus motions with her palm.

I do as she asks. Soon after we’re escorted into the train and the doors slide shut behind us. The inside is warmer but not uncomfortably so. We’re led into a parlor with velvet furniture and small chandeliers despite the natural light coming through the windows. My attention floats over to a table packed with pastries and finger foods. 

“Help yourselves my dears,” Lotus grabs a glass of purple liquid. “Next stop, the Capitol.” 

She doesn’t have to ask me twice. I grab a glass of purple liquid and fill a small dish with pastries, going back for finger foods once I’ve scarfed them down. The pastries are small muffins, some with fruit or candy fillings. I’ve never had anything as rich and sweet in my life, I savor each bite. Leina finally approaches the table for food as I start on some crab cakes. Not that I’ve ever had seafood before, those foods are expensive if at all available in District 9 but Lotus makes it a point to present each dish in detail. When I’ve had enough my stomach feels as if it’ll burst so I kick my feet up in a soft chair and rest.

“--as for the train, it travels at hundreds of miles per hour but the ride is so smooth you can hardly feel a thing. We’ll be at the Capitol in no time at all--” Lotus’s voice drifts in and out of my attention. 

I glance over at Leina who drinks from the same purple liquid our escort had. For a moment it’s comforting that I’m not the only one that copied Lotus’s wacky selections. She looks out the window watching the field of grain pass, her eyes no longer red from crying. 

“--of course tonight at dinner, you’ll meet your mentor. Ophelia, as you know is the only female victor--” 

I wonder what our mentor will be like. The importance of sponsors cannot be downplayed and a mentor’s job is to help us earn some. Hell, Ophelia wouldn’t have won her games if her mentor hadn’t sent a shovel. Although I was young at the time I can remember how proud our district was when she won and the celebrations that followed. I wonder if Leina remembers…

“So how old were you when Ophelia won her games?” I ask.

If she heard me she doesn’t react. Her eyes stay trained on the window. I clear my throat, feeling my face flush. Maybe she’s still in shock so I give her the benefit of the doubt. I down the rest of my glass, finally deciding it must be blackberry and something else. I stand and reach for her empty glass. “Want another one?”

She nods her head after a moment. I replace her glass with a new one and move back to my seat. “What do you think Ophelia will be like?” 

Leina regards me with curiosity. “What?” Her voice sounds strange. For a moment I assume she’s talking with her mouth full but that isn’t the case. 

“I asked what you thought Ophelia would be like.” 

Her expression is puzzled. She looks around the room for a moment, reaches for a pen and paper on the table and scribbles a note. I take the notepad when she offers it to me and in neat letters two words are written:

**I’m deaf.**


	3. Capitol

When I finally meet her eyes her expression is nervous, scared even. I feel guilty for the thoughts running through my head but I know I’m not wrong to think them. What chance does she stand in the games? Stealing a glance behind me, I turn to Leina and reach for her hand. She looks down and releases the pen she’s been gripping. Taking it I scribble a response beneath hers:  Do they know?  and offer the notepad back.

No,  she responds.  But they will.

Tell Ophelia first. She can help.

Suddenly the scenery turns pitch black. I twist in my chair and it’s as if night has fallen outside the train. “What’s going on?” I say.

“We’re in the tunnels,” a woman responds. “They lead up through the mountains into the Capitol.” I turn to find Ophelia has entered the compartment. She wears a navy pantsuit, her black hair pulled into a bun making her look sharp and stoic. Then the train exits the tunnels and the compartment is flooded with light.

“Nice of you to join us Ophelia. We’ve arrived!” Lotus turns to us and claps her hands together. “Take it all in, isn’t it marvelous!”

Curiosity wins and I rush to the window. A shimmering blue lake surrounds a city of marble and glass. I press my face to the window staring up at buildings that seem to touch the sky. I notice Leina stands next to me her expression awestruck by a sight we’ve only ever seen on TV. We watch as the train strolls through the city streets and arrives at the station where a sea of people await. They wear strangest clothes in the brightest colors I’ve ever seen. All of them pressing forward to get a better look at us.

Instinctively I back away from the glass. Leina and I exchange looks and I can tell she’s thinking the same thing I am. These people must be touched in the head. Behind us Lotus and Ophelia discuss an itinerary, I catch something about the remake center over the shouting of the crowd outside. I turn to Leina and signal to the notepad making a fist. She nods, rips the page from the book and crumbles it. When Lotus calls us over, I motion with my head for her to follow. As I turn she slips the wad into her dress pocket.

“Nice to meet you Cadmus, Leina,” Ophelia shakes our hands. “Now we’re headed to the remake center, this is what you two should expect…”

*******

Following Ophelia’s instruction I don’t object to anything. Two women with colored hair and painted faces gawk at my naked body as I lie on a steel table. My bare ass freezing cold. The platinum blonde pulls at my shampooed hair while the blue haired one, Celia, scrubs my body clean. Celia provides me with a robe and proceeds to spread hot gel on my eyebrows and smother it with paper. She presses the paper down and without warning yanks it off, ripping out the hair. I howl in pain only for them to giggle. “We must clean you up for sponsors dear,” Celia says for the tenth time. I bite my tongue as she repeats the process, thankful she only seems interested in the hair above my neck.

My eyes find a digital clock across the room displaying the time in orange, reminding me of the countdown clock in the games. It’s been four hours since we arrived at the remake center and I was taken into a seperate room to be prettied and readied for the chariot race tonight. Ophelia made it clear this was the first impression we would make on the Capitol citizens and that the makeover was necessary but would not be pleasant.  _ Yeah no kidding, _ I frown feeling my eyebrows burn. I can’t help think about how Leina must be holding up but push the thought aside as Celia says “he’s ready for Ramses.” 

Celia leads me into the next room that’s colder than the previous one. I stuff my hands in the pockets of my robe and survey the room. Red walls, red carpet, and a three-view mirror facing a raised platform. “You must be Cadmus,” the man I assume is Ramses approaches me. He’s dressed in a black fur coat, his blonde hair curled and styled tall. “I’m Ramses I’ll be your stylist.” He hums and cocks his head slightly as he examines my features. 

An hour later, I’m dressed in the most ridiculous costume I’ve ever seen. The purpose of costumes is to capture the industry of each district. For us, District 9, the industry is grain. “Showtime,” Ramses says. “Watch the cape and smile.” I look down at my costume consisting of a golden silk cape, a shirt decorated with pieces of grain from neckline to the waist, brown pants and boots. When we meet Leina and her stylist, Magellan, I realize Leina’s outfit is identical to mine except for a few feminine touches: light makeup, hair styled in a ponytail, and a bulky bracelet that is an exact copy of the one Magellan is wearing. Leina looks pretty enough and composed. I make a mental note to ask how her makeover went over.

Ophelia waits by the chariot.. “You have outdone yourselves, they look wonderful!” Ophelia says with a smile. It’s the first time I’ve seen her smile, it’s almost off putting. 

Ramses and Magellan beam and comment on their work before running off to gossip with other stylists. Ophelia turns to us, the smile drops from her lips. “Everything go alright?”

I turn to Leina and nod, she nods back. “Yes,” I say for the both of us.

“Good. We start in ten. Smile and wave as soon as you’re announced, remembers the crowd is dying for your attention. So be generous. And whatever you do don’t fall out of the chariot.” A smile creeps up on her face. 

Behind Ophelia a tall brown-haired boy glances at us in passing. He’s shirtless, his muscular build on full display, dressed in only a gray shimmery tunic. Ophelia turns. “That’s the boy from District 2. A career.”

“Yeah, I figured.” My stomach feels uneasy. Every year there’s a few careers, tributes that volunteered after years of training to win the games. They’re skilled killers and they never lose. I push the thought aside but for the next ten minutes I can’t help but watch the other tributes, sizing up the competition: Another black-haired career from 4, and a girl career with a wicked grin from 4, a couple younger tributes from 11 and 12, and some older ones from 9. Ophelia points out the careers but says nothing more, her tone makes it clear it’s a warning.

Drums start up in the distance. “It’s starting,” Ophelia says. “On the chariot you go.” I step into the chariot and turn to Leina as she slip Ophelia a note and climbs in next to me. Then a roar erupts from the crowd as the first chariot rolls out. District 1. I can picture how dazzling they must look. Always Capitol favorites. 

Our chariot is pulled forward following the progression but I turn back in time to see Ophelia holding the open note in her hands. My eyes fall on the tributes behind us from 10, they stare back as if wondering what I’m starting at when we clearly all look equally ridiculous. I snap back and face our path out into the city circle as the crowd shouts: “District 9! District 9! District 9!” 

My heart hammers in my chest as I take in the immense space filled with people chanting and waving their arms. Next to me Leina gives a toothless smile and waves, switching hands as we go. The people shout our names: “Cadmus! Leina!” I turn to Leina and exaggerate a smile as I point out the sections that are vying for our attention. By the end of it I realize I’m smiling, really smiling, the experience oddly exhilarating. As we come to a stop in the city circle President Snow is projected on the TV screen. “Welcome, tributes,” he begins his speech, his voice a booming echo that silences the crowd. He speaks about the bravery and strength it takes to represent our districts, the honor it will bring to our families, line after line no doubt read from a monitor. He showers us in false praises, his eyes cold and detached. 

Leina and I watch intently as he speaks. Then the anthem plays as the chariots roll out of the city circle, each chariot holding a moment of screen time before the screens show the seal of the Capitol and cuts to black. All I can think about is my family back home watching me on screen wondering what must be going through their minds. But then Leina squeezes my arm. I turn to her and then she makes a fist and motions opening a note.

“Ophelia?” She nods. “You told her.” She nods again.

  
  


*******

I never gave much thought to what happened to tributes after they left District 9. All we would see of them was the live reaping and later the replay on TV, followed by the chariot rides. Now that I’m on the other side I feel I’m being pulled from one room to another, each more extravagant than the first. The chariot race ended in the bottom level of the training center which will be our home for the next few days before the games. 

Lotus and Ophelia meet us there, escorting us up to the 9th floor of the training center. Apparently the entire floor will be ours alone, each District gets their own. Once there it’s the richest place I’ve ever seen. Floor to ceiling windows lign one wall, crystal chandeliers hang from high ceilings, and the furniture is a mix of colors but are pleasing to the eye. The best part is the bed in the room that will be mine and the shower which I take full advantage of, discarding my costume on the floor for some green cargo pants and a black shirt. 

At this point I’m famished and when I enter the foyer I find the table is set. Lotus is already at the table stuffing her face. She too has taken the opportunity to freshen up and change into a pink gown and a shoulder-length hairstyle that must be a wig.”Well what does this mean for her in the games?” Lotus asks. Ophelia looks up as I approach, the conversation ending.

“Hey everyone,” I say taking a seat across from Leina who has also changed into cargo pants and a baby blue shirt. Leina gives a half smile. “Hope I’m not late.” I glance at Lotus who continues eating, I guess they don’t teach manners in the Capitol.

“Not at all Cadmus,” Ophelia holds up her hand and a woman dressed in white approaches the table, serving me a plate of chicken pate, vegetables, and a glass of the same purple liquid from the train. I don’t hesitate to begin filling my stomach, it isn’t until I sip from my glass that I notice a notepad with writing on it sitting between Leina and Ophelia. “So what are we talking about?” 

Lotus turns to me. “Apparently Leina is deaf and we were discussing how to handle this situation.”

“ _ Lotus _ ,” Ophelia glares at her. 

“Oh please, she can’t hear us.”

“She can read lips,” I say. And we all turn to Leina who flushes under the sudden attention.

“You knew?” Lotus asks, to which I nod. “Why didn’t you say something? Do you know people are already placing bets on her when they could be focusing on you. Imagine how angry they’ll be to have placed those bets when they learn about this!”

“They won’t learn about this,” Ophelia responds in a clear voice. She turns to me, “we can keep this quiet up until the night of the interview. That way it won’t affect her training score. Besides most people don’t pay attention to--”

I’m lost in thought for a moment, angered by Lotus’s priorities during all of this. It isn’t until Ophelia calls my name that I realize she’s asked me something. “

Do you agree Cadmus?”

“Agree to what?’

“Keep this between us?”

I glance at Leina who watches me intently. I can’t imagine being excluded from an exchange about my own survival. “...Yeah I won’t tell anyone.” It isn’t a hard question to answer.

*******

“That’s Kye from District 4,” Lotus says. “Among the boys he’s almost as popular as the boy from 2.”

We sit around the couch watching the replay of the reapings with commentary from Caesar Flickerman. I’m glad that Ophelia was able to put captions on the television allowing Leina to understand what is being said on screen. We watch as Kye steps up to volunteer at his reaping right after the girl with the wicked grin, her name I learn is Serenity. So that makes two careers from district 4, the boy from 2, and the girl from 1.

Finally our faces come on screen, followed by the chariot footage. I’m glad I held it together at the reaping meanwhile Leina looks frightened next to me, just like the girl from district 7, Yvette. Lotus claps as we watch ourselves in the chariot, looking happy and inviting. 

“Here is District 9 looking representing the grain industry! Both of them proud to represent their district the crowd loves them!” Caesar says.

Leina meets my eyes as she finishes reading the caption on the screen. I give her a reassuring smile. And as much as I wish we were in this together I can’t forget Lotus’s words. They’re betting on her over me but maybe they wouldn’t if they knew.


	4. Training

“Let’s start there,” I point to the knot-making station. “It’s next on the list.” I could save my voice but following Ophelia’s advice I maintain a one-sided conversation. Leina nods. She rubs her shoulder where a dark bruise is sure to exist under her training uniform. Day two of training was treating us much better, I’m glad even underfed under-conditioned tributes like us were showing improvement. I only hope it is enough to impress the game makers who watch us like animal keepers from a raised platform.

  
We cross the training gym, a large concrete room with racks of weapons and padded floors. Meek boys and girls occupy the survival stations meanwhile the weapons are eagerly brandished by the chiseled and beautiful careers. A roar erupts from their pack as Serenity fumbles a knife, missing the target completely. Her face burns red but throws another proving she doesn’t lack the skill. Her eyes catch mine for a moment but I turn my head to avoid them.

  
_“Avoid the careers, their attention is lethal,”_ Ophelia warned. Following Ophelia’s advice we stick to the “basics” as she put it: _“Fire starting is most important. You can’t predict what arena the game makers will choose. But lack of survival skills is what kills most tributes in the first week. Another important one, knots...”_  
I work the coils of rope as shown in the guidebook. My fingers ache after a while but I manage a simple slipknot, followed by a constrictor, all very useful in various situations. Next to me Leina finishes a bowline, releases it and starts again. The process is boring. I much rather slash a stuffed dummy with a sword but Ophelia killed that idea on day one:

  
_“Avoid the other tributes, and stay away from weapons until--”_

  
_“Why?” I interrupt. “What if we want to ally with other tributes?”_

  
_“I wouldn’t recommend it for now,” Ophelia steals a glance at Leina. “Tributes often approach each other to gain insight on each other's skills.”_

  
_“We have no skills, which is why we should train with real weapons. Besides the careers always team up why can’t we?”_

  
_She studies me for a moment. “You can, in fact I can speak to mentors and arrange alliances for you. But I suggest you give it a day before you decide. Watch the other tributes Cadmus, it would be a mistake to draw attention to yourself right away.” She hands a handwritten list to Leina and I. “Now these are the stations you should prioritize.”_

  
I clench my jaw thinking of the endless lists Ophelia gives. As understanding as I want to be it’s clear Ophelia’s focused on Leina. I finally understand how my older brother felt back home. The thought chokes me up so I turn the guidebook and focus on the next knot.

  
As I work on the cinch knot, used to tie fishing line through a hook or lure, Leina taps my shoulder. She points at the guidebook, at a specific letter followed by another spelling out: O-P-H-E-L-I-A. She gives me an inquisitive look.

  
“We had a fight,” I search her expression for understanding. “She does not want us to make friends with other tributes but I think we should.” I ruin my knot which requires five turns around the standing line and then through a plastic hook. Frustrated, I pull it free and start over. “Talk later.”  
I want to say more but then the tributes from District 7 approach us. “Well well if it isn’t twinkle toes.” Axel flashes a crooked smile, reminding me how badly I’d done on the obstacle course the first day.

  
“Shut up,” I smile. “What are you guys working on now?”

  
“Ax throwing,” Yvette says with a wicked smile. She brushes her bags aside, her face gleaming with sweat. “You guys want to sit with us at lunch?”

  
I hesitate, catching myself before I turn to Leina. “Yeah sure, see you guys there.” Axel and Yvette say bye and walk away. As soon as they’re gone I keep my focus on my rope avoiding Leina’s gaze and rework my knot until I got it perfect.

***

“I’m betting on Kye the other guy’s all show,” Axel says with a mouthful of mashed potatoes.

  
“Who?” I ask. We all watch as a metal tray clatters to the floor, curses are shouted in the air, and guards sprint towards the commotion.

  
“The boy from 1, Yvette has a crush on him” Axel says.

  
“Shut up,” she nudges him. “Kye is far too cocky, did you even watch the last three games? The hothead career is always the first to go.”

  
The three of us eat and watch as the guards manage to pull the boy from 1 away, his lip is bloody and I wouldn’t be surprised if his eye is a deep purple tomorrow. Across from him, Kye raises his hands in the air. He appears to stand down so the guards leave him alone but the murderous look in his eye makes it clear he’ll finish the fight later.

  
“Well maybe we’ll get lucky and they’ll take each other out,” I say. Turning back to my tray piled high with mashed potatoes and gravy, vegetables, and a fatty fish of some sort. The fish is so foreign to the food I’m used to District 9 I feel like a king eating a meal like this. Man if I never see a sheaf of grain again I would be a happy guy. The thought catches me off guard. My insides twist with guilt. All I can picture is my family worried sick about me. The feeling gets worse when I consider what little they have to eat while my waistline grows.

  
“Kye’s been training since he was five years old though longer than most careers this year,” Axel fires back at Yvette.

  
“How do you know?” I ask.

  
“Our mentor,” he replies. “She told us.”

  
I rack my brain. District 7...Johanna Mason, that’s right. She won a few years back by pretending to be a sobbing mess up until the bloodbath in which she cut down the competition like trees.

  
“What’s your mentor like?” Yvette asks.

  
“We don’t talk all that much, I mean she gives us advice but most of the time she’s talking with sponsors for us.”

  
“Or so she says,” Yvette rolls her eyes. I know a rant is about to begin but I can’t deny it’s cute when she does it. “Let’s be honest they don’t care about us and why should they? We’re just this year’s tributes and next year they’ll get another set.”

  
“You’re right,” I say halfheartedly. Maybe I was an idiot for believing Ophelia cared, even about Leina.

  
“Where’s the girl from your district by the way?” Axel asks. “Why doesn’t she come to lunch?”

  
I pretend my mouth is more full than it actually is and chew slowly. “She has lunch up on our floor with our mentor,” I say.

  
“We can do that?” Axel says. “Damn if I would have known I wouldn’t have come, she’s smart to not be around the ‘competition’.” He makes air quotes. Yvette shoots him a dirty look which prompts him to apologize. “I don’t mean you guys, it’s just I rather relax upstairs away from the careers.”

  
“Me too,” I say. “But we can’t go to each other's floors so let’s keep meeting here. Have either of you talked to the kids from 6?” I’m happy to change the subject. Even though Axel and Yvette agree to an alliance with us, the excuses I give grow old; I know I can’t cover for Leina much longer.

  
“I did,” Yvette says. She shakes her head. “Not to be mean they don’t seem like much, the girl is really scared I don’t think she’ll survive.”

  
“We’re all scared Yvette. Let’s not count them out because of how they look, we’re stronger in numbers. For starters we know how to be hungry that’s something the careers don’t.”

  
“I guess you’re right,” she says. “I’ll approach them again tomorrow. Do you and Leina want to train with us?

  
I think hard for a moment. “Uh, it’s not a good idea. My mentor said we shouldn’t draw attention to ourselves, I mean they expect us to hang out with the girl or boy from our district but if they see a group of us from different districts they’ll notice and maybe--”

  
“What’s the big deal?” Axel stops me. “The careers see us hang out here; they’re too busy measuring dicks to care.”

  
Yvette scoffs at his comment but chooses to ignore it. “Cadmus it seems like you don’t really want an alliance with us. Or is it Leina? In fact, I’ve only spoken to her once I think…” She trails off.

  
It’s the truth. The first day of training I cut between her and Leina in line, just as Yvette tried to strike up a conversation. They hadn’t spoken since.

  
“Guys I told you. Leina is going through a lot. She’s shy and like the girl from 6 she’s scared out of her mind too and--”

  
“Or maybe she’s pulling a Johanna Mason,” Yvette raises an eyebrow. “It’s always the shy ones you gotta watch out for.”

***

  
When I enter the 9th floor suite I find Ophelia at the table, pen in hand and Lotus flipping through a magazine. “Oh that Roselle is an icon! I must have that dress!”

  
I make a beeline to my room but before I reach the door Ophelia stops me. “Cadmus can we talk?”

  
“ Sure,” I amble back to the table and plop down in front of her.

She gathers her papers and sets them off to the side before raising her glasses into her hair. “Cadmus I spoke to the mentor from District 7, she said you approached her tributes for an alliance today.”

  
“I did,” I say. Not too thrilled at her accusatory tone. “And before you ask, no I didn’t tell them. I spent most of the day changing the subject actually.”

  
“And you really think they’ll ally with her once they learn the truth? You have to make a choice here.”

  
“No I don’t,” I fire back. ”You said you’d help us both but your focus is on her. I’m sick of all these handwritten notes. When we do talk you shoot down my ideas so I’m doing things my way and just so you know, I approached them first to draw attention away from her.” I feel my throat closing off so I push the words out. “I have nothing against Leina but I’m trying to survive too.”

  
Ophelia watches me for moment, her eyes sympathetic. “If my focus has been on her these last few days it’s because she has to speak for herself on interview night. Believe me I’m working just as hard for her, as I am for you.”

  
Interview night is one day away. Each night after training I sit with Lotus and go over interview questions, the process incredibly boring but I hadn’t considered how Leina was preparing. “I’m sorry but it doesn’t seem that way,” I wipe away a tear. “At this point I’m better off with Lotus.”

  
“I heard that!” Lotus hisses from across the room.

  
I stifle a laugh. A warm smile spreads on Ophelia’s lips and I find myself smiling back. Although we sit on opposite sides of the same coin, mentor and tribute, we’re both outsiders here.

***

  
_“We shouldn’t be here,” My voice echoes in the dark._

  
_“Relax,” Jacob says. “We need to know what they’re hiding. And will you look at that--” The dark room opens up into a large warehouse, dimly lit by moonlight creeping through windows obscured by canvas. The space is occupied by armored trucks and racks of weapons._

  
_A flash of light blinds me momentarily. “What the hell are you doing?”_

  
_“We need evidence. They’re gonna wanna see this,” Jacob moves forward a small camera in hand. Another flash illuminates a large block of cylinders on a pallet. A beat passes before I realize what they are._

  
_“They’re bombs,” I say in disbelief. “Why are they here?_

  
_“Why do you think?” Jacob says. He disappears into the shadows and all I can do is follow the sounds of his footsteps. “I knew they were planning something when they commandeered our market.”_

  
_“So this is their next site,” I come to the realization. Putting together all the things he’s rambled about these past months, not wanting to accept them as fact. Because what difference does it make? Who are we to stop them?_

  
_Boots beat against concrete in the distance sending a chill down my spine “Peacekeepers! We have to go!” I pull him towards the exit. When we push open the doors we’re surrounded by Peacekeepers. Their guns are drawn and before I can scream they fire. BANG!_

  
***

I wake with a start. Unfortunately when the nightmares come, they stick around for a few days and the thought is enough to make me cry. I’m in and out of sleep for the rest of the night. Once sunlight fills the room I jump into the shower and get dressed for breakfast.

  
It’s still early so I kill time just looking out the window at the skyline beneath the orange sky. Where did the time go? It feels like just this morning I arrived at the Capitol and now the games are only days away. I think of my life a year ago when Jacob was alive and we were inseparable. I give in to my rumbling stomach and head out to breakfast pushing the thought aside.

  
“Good mor--,” I stop myself as I take in the empty room. The table is partially set, only pastries and fruit have been put out and there’s a smell of fresh coffee in the air. I grab a pastry and bite into it. Where are the servants? Am I that early? A cold breeze runs through the room turning my attention to the balcony doors. I walk over to close them but stop when I spot Leina out on the balcony. I start to approach her but slip back behind the door. She’s not alone. On the balcony a servant girl stands with her, waving her arms in the air. Her expression communicating worry and urgency. The servant girl relaxes and Leina begins in a similar fashion to wave, no gesture back at her. They continue for a moment but after a while their hands fall at their sides. Before they find me I sprint back to my room, my footsteps thunder against the tile.


	5. Avox

Avoiding the servants is impossible. I finally realize how many there are. Always in the background in every room, silent and observant. During breakfast they stand ready to fill your glass or clear your plate. _How much have they seen? If Leina can talk to them how much does she know?_ As usual Leina is busy writing on a notepad. She hands it to Ophelia who studies carefully like my mother when she checks my schoolwork. This continues, the two of them writing back and forth meanwhile Lotus and I eat in silence--or I eat in silence and Lotus shares the latest capitol gossip. I’ve heard enough, none of it remotely interesting, so I keep my mouth full. It isn’t until I’ve finished eating that I consider how easy it would be for Leina and her servant friends to poison me or any tribute for that matter…

An hour later I’m in training working at a survival station on edible plants. The station is a monitor that quizzes you, marking poisonous plants and berries in red. Luckily it allows me to work alone and ditch Leina. Once I’ve run the station a few times I scan the gym for Yvette and Axel. I spot them at the ax throwing station. _No surprise there. Why work on the same skill? It should come easy to them considering their district’s industry. But hey maybe they’re smart to work on offense…_

In my head I check the list that Ophelia gave me, crossing off the stations I’ve covered. Edible plants, knots, acquiring shelter...To my dismay none are really useful in the event of a fight. Maybe Ophelia is hoping I can hide it out like she did in her games. As I watch Yvette and Axel, I muster the courage to approach them

“Hey guys,” I say. My knees shake.

Yvette rests the ax on her shoulder and cocks her head. For a moment it crosses my mind how easily she could take a swing at me. “Are you sure you can be seen with us?”

I let out a sigh. “C’mon guys, I’m sorry.”

“Save it man, we’re not playing games.” Axel comes up beside Yvette. “I mean we are but not--”

Yvette rolls her eyes. “The point is you can go back to Leina and leave us alone.”

“Yvette hear me out.” I let out a deep sigh. “ I thought about what you said and you’re right. I’m done listening to anyone else when it’s my life on the line.”

She regards me for a second. “Does that mean Leina’s in or out on this whole alliance?” Yvette glances over in her direction. 

I risk a glance at Leina, finding her with a shiny compass in hand. “She’s out,” I say.

*******

Axel is equally helpful and taunting as he teaches me proper form. By the end of training we’re laughing, taking turns throwing axes and cheering as they crack against the wooden target. With Axel’s tips I manage to land a few. Yvette smiles when I do and then goes on to show me up completely, her aim especially impressive. As the bell rings for lunch I spot Leina across the gym walking away from a station I’m not familiar with. I ignore the guilty feeling that overwhelms me and focus on filling my belly before evaluations. I should be nervous but instead I’m occupied counting the servants in each room.

“Hey have you guys paid much attention to the servants around?” I take a sip of the purple liquid that has become my favorite beverage.

“The Avoxes?” Yvette says. “No, why?”

“What are they called?” I ask. 

Yvette repeats the word. “Avox. They had their tongues cut out for rebelling against the capitol and now they serve us during the games.”

“Damn that’s fucked,” I say. “ What are the Avoxes on your floor like?”

“Quiet,” Axel smirks, almost choking on a sandwich. 

“Funny,” I suppress a smile. I figure I’m pushing my luck prying into the topic. “Yvette did you hear from six?” 

“Yup, they’re in. The boy seems especially excited,” she says. At that moment the bell rings and guards begin rounding us up for evaluation. We’re escorted down a long hallway into a room with benches where we all sit and wait for our name to be called. The boy from 1, the one Yvette supposedly has a crush on is called first. He’s pretty fit and handsome, flashing a cocky smile as he marches into the next room.

Next the girl from 1, Scarlet, is called. Her blonde pigtails bounce as she leaves the room. She’s a career also and a real beauty. I can’t imagine she’ll score less than a ten. One by one we’re called. The room quiet until finally the last career is gone after which the room becomes lively with conversation. I join the tributes from seven and six, leaving Leina behind.

“What are you guys gonna show the makers?” Thomas asks. He’s a lanky boy with red hair and freckles. 

Everyone goes silent. I’m glad Axel decides to crack a joke. “At this point man...I’d drop my pants for a good score.”

“Eww, I’m sure they’d love that.” Yvette exclaims. Sending us all into a fit of laughter. “It’s a bunch of old men up there.”

“Then maybe _you_ should do it,” Axel giggles.

“I don’t know Axel,” I chime in. “They might not be picky around here.”

His eyes widen for a moment and he bursts into laughter. 

Then Thomas is called and then the girl from six, Holly. Followed by Axel. “Wish me luck,” he says with a wink. 

Once he’s gone Yvette turns to me. “Are you nervous?” she asks.

I get the feeling she’s asking for her sake and not mine. “Yeah are you?” 

She nods. “I wish I could pretend like Axel; make a joke out of everything but I can’t. I hope I get a good score.”

“You’ve got this, just get in there throw a couple axes. They’ll love it.” 

She smiles. “Thanks Cadmus.”

Once she’s called I sit in silence. After a while the guards return and I’m escorted down a hallway and through an iron door, which leads into the gym from the opposite side. My eyes jump to the platform above where the gamemakers banter over a glass of wine. The whole thing feels surreal. It should feel exhilarating and important but the experience is boring as I move from station to station while the makers pay half-attention to me. To close my performance I throw an ax. It lands on the target for a second before falling to the floor, breaking off a hole in the wood. Then the guards ask me to leave.

*******

After dinner we gather around the couch just as the Capitol logo flashes on the screen. My mouth goes dry as the first score is revealed. It’s Marcus from District 1 with a score of ten. The rest of the careers all do as expected and then there’s Kye, the top dog of the careers receiving a twelve. The tributes from 6 come on the screen, Thomas earning a four and Holly a six. Part of me is relieved, surely I’ll score better than them at least. Then Yvette is on the screen with an eight and Axel with a nine. 

Finally my picture is on the screen and my score is a five. My stomach lurches. I feel my face grow hot. 

“It’s just a score Cadmus,” Ophelia offers up after reading my expression

Then Leina is on the screen with a score of seven. 

The shame overtakes me but I force myself through the rest of the scores and once it’s finished I say goodnight and go to my room. I throw myself onto the soft bed, stretching my limbs letting the tension free from my limbs. _What does it matter either way? It’s not like I had a chance at sponsors. The games are rigged. Or am I saying this because a deaf girl did better than me? _My anger turns to guilt.

I lie there in my clothes until my vision blurs and a strange calm comes over me. As I teeter on the edge of sleep there’s a knock at the door. My eyes fly open and as I turn to the door a stack of papers is pushed underneath. I retrieve them, the first page containing two sentences written in Leina’s script.

**Read this and then burn in the fireplace. Midnight.**

Midnight is written in thick marker and underlined. I turn to the next page my eyes taking in a drawing that takes up most of the space, the heading reads: **Forrest Arena.** My eyes widen._ It’s a map! _I scan the page again. _Is this real? _I turn to the next page and then the next in disbelief. Dropping the stack on my bed I run and pull the blinds closed before continuing. I’m suddenly wide awake, reinvigorated by what fills each page. Some of the pages are handwritten and others are copied official Capitol documents. A page is dedicated to each tribute, containing stats and skill information.

I leaf through the stack searching for my own page. **District 9, Cadmus Easton, 15.** I can’t deny the information is valid as my page contains the names of my parents, my birth date, and my most recent work picture taken at the grain mill. Next to me the clock displays the time: 11:00 pm._ Do I really only have an hour? What if I take longer? I can’t keep this here, if someone finds it… _I flip back to the front, taking the page with the map and placing it off to the side on the bed. I’ll study it more once I’ve seen the rest. I start on the third page written in Leina’s careful letters it reads: 

**Don’t trust the boy from 6.**


	6. Interview

“Are you excited for the hunger games?”

“You’re kidding right?” I say.

“Answer the question dear.”

I force a smile.“Yes, I’m thrilled.” 

“And what is your favorite part of the games?”

“Well my favorite part was not being _in_ them,” I seethe.

“Ophelia!” Lotus shrieks. “Cadmus is not cooperating!” 

“These questions are ridiculous,” I shout. 

If Ophelia hears our bickering she chooses to ignore it. I imagine she's across the hall with Leina, a notepad moving between them as they prep for her interview. But Leina can’t bring the notepad on stage. I can’t imagine what she’ll do once she’s in front of the cameras.

“Well Ceasar may ask them,” Lotus pauses and falls back into a sing-song voice. “Which is why we practice. Next question...”

Interview prep lasts another half hour and includes the most idiotic questions but as Lotus says it’s important to put on a good show. She isn’t wrong. This is the first time the capitol will really get to know us. It’s important that tributes sell themselves to sponsors but in truth, this is the moment strategies are solidified.

During her interview, Ophelia was likable enough but boring, offering short answers to each question. Once in the arena she was ignored. Most people even forgot she was still in the games until only a handful of tributes were left. Everyone was just as shocked when she won.

There’s a knock at the door. “Alright, Lotus that’s enough,” Ramses smiles. “Time to dress the boy.”

For the first time I’m happy to see him. I jump up from my seat and follow him to the next room. I’ve learned the drill by now, so I strip to my underwear. Ramses fetches a garment bag from a wardrobe in the back, unzips it and presents it to me. “Look’s great right?” 

“Yeah, I love it.” The suit is the most expensive thing I’ve ever seen. A soft blue jacket with matching slacks and a black button up shirt. After a quick shower I try it on. The slacks are a bit long, something I wouldn’t have noticed after years of hand-me-downs until Ramses points it out. I oblige when he asks for them. After ten minutes of waiting in my underwear, he returns with the slacks, newly hemmed. 

“As for your hair, we’ll go slicked back,” Ramses motions for me to sit at the vanity. After he’s done nearly ripping out my hair and gluing it down we leave to find Ophelia pacing the hall. 

“Hey,” she smiles at Ramses. They exchange pleasantries and he leaves to join the audience. “You look very handsome Cadmus. Ready to go?”

“Thanks,” I say. “I think so. Where’s Leina?”

Her smile falls. “She’s almost ready. Ceasar will be informed before the first interview begins. He’ll help as best he can.” 

“I’m sure she’ll be fine.” I offer.

She sighs. “I hope. She’s a capable girl. I just wish there was more I could do.” 

Sympathy overtakes me but it’s replaced by guilt as I’m grateful not to be in her shoes right now. “Me too,” I say to myself.

*******

Tributes file in, with District 1 at the front and 12 at the back. The order will go girl then boy, each will be interviewed for two minutes. Around us guards stand ready, in case the careers decide to throw a couple more punches. But their attention doesn’t stop me from approaching Yvette as she walks by. I give her a hug taking in her flowery perfume as I whisper a secret into her ear. From the corner of my eye I spot a guard but before he can grow suspicious I’m back in line.

Above us the TV comes on and Caesar Flickerman begins riling up the crowd. Marcus from District 1 walks on as he’s announced dressed in a silver suit. As flashy as his clothing, he’s desperate to impress the audience. He shares a long-winded story about how he’s dreamt of volunteering for the games since he was kid. The whole thing makes my blood boil.

Next up, Scarlet struts on the stage in a skimpy lavender gown. She twirls for the crowd before greeting Ceasar with a kiss, clearly playing up her sex appeal. Unfortunately for her, she’s only pleasing to the eyes and I find myself distracted during her interview. 

In my mind I picture the pages I read last night, afraid I’ll forget a single detail. I glance at the back of Leina’s head, her strawberry-blonde hair a sleek curtain that hides her. It’s probably the first time I’ve seen her wear her hair down. 

Before I know it, Yvette is on the stage. “Hey Caesar it’s great to finally meet you.” She waves at the crowd. Yvette looks beautiful in an orange dress that flows down to her ankles. She smiles at his first question, “Yes, I learned how to swing an ax when I was four!” The crowd laughs.

Next up is Axel. His hair is curled and he’s dressed in a brown suit. He prances on stage. “What’s up party people!” I crack a smile watching him steal the mic from Caesar much to his embarrassment. “Look mom I’m on TV!” One thing’s for sure, the audience loves him if laughter is proof.

Once the girl from 8 is on stage, Leina and I are so close we can see the stage. My pulse quickens and Lotus’s voice is suddenly in my head, reciting interview questions. I try to focus on how I will answer each one but the activity does little to settle my nerves. _What if I freeze out there? _I push the thought aside. Whatever happens out there I have an edge tributes would die for. I know what to expect in that arena.

Finally it’s Leina’s turn. She approaches Caesar with confidence, looking regal in a long-sleeved maroon dress. Caesar shakes her hand and leads her to the sofa, skipping over his usual banter with the audience. “So Leina I learned something about you that you’ve kept private but would like to share at this point.” Leina nods.

Caesar shifts in his seat. “Would you like me to share or would you like to tell the audience what that is?”

Leina stares at him with narrowed eyes. It takes me a moment to realize what’s happened. My eyes widen. _Caesar didn’t lower the mic! She missed what he said. _

He asks again. “Please be patient,” he turns to the crowd as they grow restless. Caesar extends the mic to Leina and waits for a response.

_“I’m. Deaf.”_ She says carefully. 

Then the camera is on the crowd. I clench my jaw watching their ridiculous faces gossip and sneer. I press forward leaving the guards behind and then I’m on stage bathed in lights. The crowd gasps. “I can help!” I say.

“What are you doing boy?” Caesar stops me before I’ve reached the couch. “You have to wait your turn.” Not missing an opportunity, he extends the mic.

“Caesar, I want to help. I know Leina better than anyone, please.”

Instinctively he raises a hand to his earpiece and stares out into the crowd. Shouting fills the room: “Let him speak!” “Hear him out!”

“A--Alright, Cadmus, is it?” He waves off the guards who I assume are behind me. “Come on over.”

As I settle on the couch next to Leina, she seems to relax. Across from us, Cesar taps his ear one more time and suddenly he’s back to his cheerful persona. “Well District 9 sure is full of surprises tonight!” The crowd laughs with him. “Cadmus tell us why you wanted to share the stage with Leina tonight.”

“Thanks Ceasar uh, I’m here because Leina trusted me with her secret early on and it’s important people understand this. She was born like everyone else,” I turn to Leina. “When she was 11 she became ill and in District 9 most people can’t afford medicine, so the fever took her hearing,” I recite the information as I read it from her file. “She wanted to keep this a secret because she knew it would hurt her chances at getting sponsors, but I don’t think that shouldn't affect her. And I can tell you she’s more than capable of winning.” Part of me regrets that last part once I’ve said it. 

“Cadmus, are you endorsing a fellow tribute above yourself?” It’s a question but sounds more like a statement.

I force a smile. “Well, I think her score speaks for itself. I just want people to understand her before they count her out. Competition aside I don’t see her as a fellow tribute, I see her as a friend.” 

I’m startled as the crowd cheers. “And on that note, time’s up Leina.” Caesar prompts her to stand, “Leina Skeep! District 9!” 

*******

Leina holds her notepad out to me. **Thank you. You didn’t have to do that.** On the screen before us, the crowd gives a standing ovation. I watch as Leina turns to hug me, then gives the camera a quick wave and a smile before she walks off stage.

**No, thank you. You gave me hope when I needed it.** Cesar has only enough time to ask a single question. I watch as I reply in an even tone, offering nothing of substance. Then my time is up. The audience protests, so Cesar explains there is a strict time limit and I’ve spent mine.

My insides twist. _Damn what if I’ve hurt myself by helping her? _

“That was very brave Cadmus,” Ophelia offers up, stealing a glance at the notepad between me and Leina. 

“A brilliant performance! ” At the far side of the couch, Lotus raises her wine glass. “District 9 is all Capitol is talking about.”

I roll my eyes at her assessment. Next up, the girl from 10 walks on stage but I’m no longer interested in watching. I take the notepad as Leina hands it back to me. **Did you burn everything?**

I take a deep breath, releasing all my tension with a sigh. **Yes. Thanks again, I feel like I can’t thank you enough. **If what Lotus says is true then maybe I still have a shot at sponsors noticing me.

Finally, the interviews come to a close as the boy from 12 takes the stage. He can't be older than thirteen. I feel bad for him as he’s visibly nervous in front of the cameras, but then my attention falls back on the notepad beside me. **Allies? Circle: Yes or No. (Don’t feel obligated, we can call it even.)**

I stare at the notepad for a moment. Suspicion creeps in my stomach. I piece the events of the last two days together, the files and why she would give them to me right before the interviews. _She’s playing me. _I look up as the Capitol anthem plays and the TV clicks off. Ophelia glances at me and smiles. Suddenly her smile is no longer warm but mocking. My mind spins and the only conclusion I can come to is that I’ve been manipulated by them both.

Taking the pen I draw a circle. **Yes.**


	7. Bloodbath

I’m on the roof before sunrise. A hovercraft sits in the dark at the end of the walkway. I stop and stare, in awe at the metal bird until a guard shouts: “Hurry up!” I push through the bitter wind and board the craft. Inside strips of lights illuminate a small aisle that divides two rows of seats. The first open seat I find happens to be next to Leina, her blonde silhouette turns to me and smiles. 

Once all the tributes have boarded, we’re in the air. I realize because of the sinking feeling in my stomach. I do my best to ignore it but I almost wish I hadn’t had a second helping at breakfast. At the end of the row a woman begins approaching tributes, when she comes to me I offer my hand. She pokes me with a syringe, inserting a small tracker that glows beneath my skin. This is how the capitol keeps track of us in the arena. A part of me wonders if the trackers are reused each year; if they’re taken from the dead tributes once the games are over. I shudder at the thought and focus on something else.

Down the line, Yvette meets my gaze. I lean forward into the light and muster a smile. I hope she remembers what I told her yesterday, right before the interviews. I also hope she shared it with Axel. He sits next to her, his gaze fixed on the floor. This is the first time I’ve seen him this quiet. Then the door slides open and boots echo against metal. _We’re here,_ the realization dawns on me. A set of guards escort each of us off the hovercraft. Leina looks over at me and nods before I’m led down a separate hallway. _Once the games begin we’ll be on our own, at least for a while,_ I tell myself.

My stylist Ramsees greets me as I enter the room. “There you are! Look at this.” He unzips a garment bag. “Warm but breathable fabrics.”

Without a comment I begin getting dressed. My hands tremble as I pull the black shirt over my head, making even harder to tie the laces on my boots.

“Nervous?” Ramsees asks, taking over the task for me. 

“A little,” I force myself to answer. Now that I’m dressed I wish he’d leave. I wish I could see Ophelia one last time. _Send me something out there Ophelia, I’ll need it. _

Then a voice breaks the silence: “Tributes enter your pods.”

“Best of luck!!” Ramsees adjusts my jacket, “Oh, mustard yellow is your color.” 

I enter the tube in the corner of the room. My heart hammers in my chest as it closes around me. I press my shaky hands against the thick glass. Then the platform I stand on rises up into the ceiling and for a moment it’s dark, then I’m blinded by sunlight. 

Once my eyes adjust I see the cornucopia, the bags of supplies scattered in the grass around it, and the forest that surrounds us. Wind tugs at my jacket. I take a deep breath, the smell of pine reaching my nose. It feels like the first real breath I’ve taken in weeks.

“Ladies and gentlemen let the 66th Hunger Games begin!” A voice booms from the sky. “Sixty, fifty-nine, fifty-eight, fifty-seven…” The countdown begins.

I glance at the other tributes. They all lean forward on their platforms, determined to make it to the cornucopia first. I spot Leina across the clearing, she wears the same mustard-colored jacket as I do. She scans the other tributes, probably searching for me. Lucky for her she’s facing the opening of the cornucopia where all the best weapons and supplies are stored. 

Axel and Yvette aren’t so lucky. Like me, they face the back of the cornucopia. I spot them off to my right. To get to the opening we would have to make it across the field, around to the opening while avoiding the other tributes. It’s impossible really, I realize as I spot Kye a few tributes down from Leina. But this is a good thing. I recall the map Leina gave me. The tip of the cornucopia points at the forest behind me. That’s where the mountain range lies and that’s where I need to go.

“Five..Four...Three...Two...One.“ 

  
*******

My instincts tell me to run but instead I watch the other tributes sprint to the cornucopia. I spin in place and leap from the pod. As soon as my feet have touched the grass, I break into a sprint. Before I’ve even reached the trees the first cannon fires. I run faster, trees blurring past. Then four, five, six more cannons fire. Six dead tributes already. 

Once I’ve put enough distance between me and the bloodbath, I slow to a walk. My lungs burn and my forehead is already beaded with sweat. Stopping isn’t an option, I tell myself. Two miles is how far I have to go, it’ll probably take me most of the day to get there but I’ll be the first. Leina and the others will be right behind me.

Doubts creep into my mind after a few hours. The forest has grown dense, the air thick and hot. I start to wonder if I can trust the map as much as I have. What if it wasn’t correct? The game makers control everything, what if they changed something? I recall a previous years’ games in which the game makers spun the cornucopia, knocking a tribute off the top to their death. Maybe I should climb a tree to check if I can see the mountain range--no, the trees aren’t that tall. And I’m so tired at this point I don’t know I have the energy to climb.

By late afternoon, I come to a stop. A smile spreads across my face as I hear the sound of rushing water. Although my legs scream in pain, I break into a run until I reach a small stream. This is the proof I need. Just as the map pictured, this stream lies between the cornucopia and the mountains. Unfortunately it didn’t say if it was safe to drink from. I kneel before it and watch for a moment. Once I spot a school of fish, I drink. The water tastes fresh and clean, quenching my thirst. After I’ve drank enough and splashed my face a few times I sit and relax for a moment. I curse myself, maybe I was dumb for not grabbing anything from the cornucopia, not even a flask to carry water.

I reach for another drink when a branch snaps behind me. My blood goes cold and in a second I’ve scrambled to my feet and hidden behind a boulder. I press tightly against the rock, listening for the footsteps that approach. Ragged breaths and grunts follow each step. Curiosity gets the better of me. I press forward and see him, Thomas from District 6 slumped against a tree. I’m relieved it’s him and not a career. 

“Thomas,” I call out. “Are you okay?”

He jumps. “Shit! You scared me.” 

I approach him and see blood running down his arm. “What happened?” I watch him struggle to pull bandages from his backpack. “Here let me help.” 

“The girl from 4. She stabbed me from across the field.”

“It doesn’t look too bad though,” I say as I wrap his arm. “ Did you see Leina?”

“I’m not sure, I don’t think so it all happened so fast.”

When I’ve tied off the bandage, I notice the knife. Then his hand blurs before my face. I fall backward, a painful sting spreads over my cheek. “What the hell!” My hand is at my face coming back with blood.

He charges forward and pins me to the ground. “Sorry, but my mentor was pretty clear. I kill someone and my odds suddenly look better to sponsors.” He raises the knife.

I want to scream for help but there’s no time. I catch his wrist, suspending the knife inches from my throat. At the same time I grasp at his wound with all my strength and roll to the side.

Thomas howls in pain. He hits the ground next to me and I wrestle the knife from him. “What’s wrong with you?” I scramble to my feet and hold the knife out at him. 

Thomas sneers back. “This is why we’re here. I’m just playing the game.”

“Maybe you’re right,” I reach for his backpack. It crosses my mind to kill him but the idea is fleeting. Instead I focus on the fact that if he caught up to me other tributes can’t be too far behind. “May the odds be.” I say. I take a step back and sprint into the trees. Leina was right once again. I shouldn’t have trusted him. If she’s still alive I’ll have to remind myself to thank her.

It’s a while before I realize I’m lost. The realization hits me so hard that I kick up dust when I come to a stop. The ground ahead slopes downhill, hinting to the fact I’m headed in the wrong direction. If only I’d paid attention I would have noticed the trees becoming thinner, the roots following the curve of the ground. With limited time before sunset I decide to run back to the stream. 

I clutch the knife as I walk, too tired to run. For his sake, I hope I don’t run into Thomas again. An hour later the sun is setting casting menacing shadows. I ignore the fear in my chest and the noises of the nocturnal woods. To think I planned to make it to the mountains before dark. I stop to rest for a moment, my shirt soaked in sweat. If I find Thomas again I’ll kill him, I decide. I dab my cheek with a couple more bandages. The cut isn’t deep but sweat stings it constantly. If only the stupid backpack had something more useful inside or some food.

Suddenly a scream rips through the dark. _Boom!_ A cannon fires. I drop to the floor and crawl a meter to a cluster of bushes. I dig my way into the center, pulling my backpack in after me. 

“Let’s go! He’s dead,” a male voice says.

“There was someone with him,” a female replies. I tense at the proximity of her voice. “He said he ran into another boy.”

“He was just buying time,” he says. “All we did was waste our time allowing him to lead us here. We’ll find the rest of them tomorrow.” 

“Fine but the deaf girl is mine.”

“Ok, can we go now?”

Judging from the crunch of their footsteps they’re approaching. I curl further into myself pressing my cheek against the ground. Through the break in the leaves I see them, Serenity and Kye from District 4. I’m certain I’m on screen now, all over Panem. This is the part when the people watching the games bite at their fingernails and shout: “He’s right there! Get him!” Can I blame them? Sometimes the games could be exhilarating. Sometimes I would have those exact thoughts when watching the games, of course I never said them out loud. 

I quiet my breathing and remain still as they talk, only picking up the last part of their conversation.

“Why hasn’t the body been picked up?” Serenity says.

“Because we’re still here, now let’s go.” Kye marches off into the forest followed by Serenity.

I stay put. I don’t trust that they’re really gone, not yet at least. I wait a couple of hours until the anthem music begins in the sky signaling the end of the first day. Congrats Cadmus, I tell myself. You survived the first day.

In the sky, the boy from 11 is the first of the fallen. His tribute image projected in blue. Thirteen faces follow, none of them Leina, or Yvette, or Axel. The fifteenth face flashes in the sky and as I expect it’s Thomas. The anthem plays and then the sky goes dark. 

My legs are so numb now they’ll be useless tomorrow if I spend the night rolled into a ball. Slowly I slip out of the bush, the branches scratching at my face. I rise on my haunches, pausing as my legs throb in pain.

Fearful that the careers are still around, I tiptoe over roots. My legs have only started to adjust when I stop but it isn’t the throbbing in my legs that paralyzes me. A few feet ahead I see his body, his face white in the moonlight. Thomas. I approach his body slowly, a few knives stick out of his chest. I swallow my fear and lean over. I grasp the first knife, turn my face and pull it from his body. The ease with which it slips from his flesh is a testament to how useful these knives will be. I pull the second, warm blood splatters on my face but I ignore it and pull the third. 

As I walk away I wipe my face with my sleeve. A few moments later a cool breeze sways all the trees around me. I turn in time to see the hovercraft, hardly visible in the dark sky. A metal claw lowers and lifts back into the sky, taking Thomas's body in an instant. "May the odds be_,"_ I say.


	8. Hunt

When I wake my body is stiff and cold. The events of the previous night flood back to me. Fifteen tributes are dead. Thomas was the last to die and Serenity killed him. Now her knives are the only weapons I have. Three of them, now tucked into my belt. After I pulled them from his chest, I walked until exhaustion won. That’s how I ended up in this bush. 

Through the canopy of leaves the sky is gray. Sunrise is hours away, so I crawl out of the bush and walk the rest of the way to the stream. My body is weak. I’ve gone a full day without food, except for the few berries I know to be safe. Still my stomach pains me. And water offers little relief. 

I spend a few minutes cleaning up by the stream. It's the least I can do. Especially now that there are only nine tributes left, chances are the ones that remain will get more screen time. It also feels good too to wash off all the dirt, sweat, and blood. As I reach the foot of the mountain I even crack a smile. But on the inside I panic. Unsure if I have the energy to hike. 

Off to my left, a deer stares back at me. It’s yards away but without thinking I decide to put my throwing knives to the test. I throw one, mimicking Serenity’s technique. It sails over the deer’s head, rustles branches, and spooks the animal. I curse under my breath. If only I’d known I’d end up with Serenity’s weapon of choice, I would have asked her for help during training. I smirk at the idea.

I retrieve the knife, collect a few branches, and begin sharpening them to a point. I focus through the fog in my brain and recall the steps to setting a trap. It won’t be perfect but it’s reliable. And I’m less likely to look like a fool doing it. 

Once the traps are set I have plenty of time to think. I pace the forest collecting berries as last night’s dream lingers on my mind. It’s a painful memory really. In it, Daniela cries and I do little to comfort her. What a terrible friend I was. For a moment I wonder if she’s watching. Or maybe she’s kept her promise not to watch. It would be easy to speak to her, or my family, but there’s no guarantee the cameras will show it. 

I push the thought aside and take down my traps--the first of which produced a single rabbit--but I work with enthusiasm and store the wire and branches in my backpack. In no time I start a small fire, using a match from my pack. One of the few useful items it contains. Once the rabbit is cooked enough, I smother the fire and start up the mountain, eating as I hike. The first bite kills the pain in my stomach. Ten minutes later, I’m sucking on bones and fat as I reach the summit. 

Leina stands there, her blonde hair is braided back and her face slightly sunburned. 

“Oh my god, am I glad to see you,” I hug her, feeling a pair of binoculars dig into my chest. She smiles back and glances questioningly at my jacket. I tell her the blood isn’t mine. I quickly recap my first night in the arena, eager to hear about hers. “Did you stick around at the bloodbath?” I ask. 

Leina nods her head. She holds up her binoculars and taps the compass at the top. It reminds me of a tiny snow globe like the ones my mom loves. This is what she made it out with, I say to myself. The binoculars didn’t help her find the mountains. The compass did. But of course only we can know that. She points behind me at the forest below. From here, I notice how easy it is to spot a tribute below. The perfect vantage point.

“Not. Alone,” she speaks the words slowly. “Seven.”

*******

“We were worried about you,” Axel says. “Woah are you okay?” He notices the blood on my jacket. 

“Yeah, this is Thomas’s blood,” I say.

Yvette’s eyes flicker with suspicion.

“No, I didn’t kill him,” I explain. “Serenity did. The bastard tried to kill me though.”

“We shouldn’t have trusted him,” Yvette says. Her short hair is tangled around her face but still she manages to look pretty.

I glance at Leina, “Yeah if only we’d known.” I make a mental note to trust her from now on, at least until she gives me a reason not to. Even if she played me before, it’s better to have a mind like hers on my side.

“Cool knives,” Axel says, glancing at my belt. “How’d you get them?”

I explain my run in with Thomas as we settle down in a circle. I remove my jacket for the first time and relax against a rock. “What about you guys, how’d you make it here?” 

Yvette winces as she recounts details of the bloodbath. “Me and Axel made it out together. I wanted a backpack like yours but the boy from 1 was coming right at us.” She tells us they slept in trees the first night, using rope to secure themselves to the trunk. “It reminded me of something me and my brother did when we were kids,” Axel interrupts again. Yvette continues, telling us Axel had climbed the tallest tree to search for mountains. “That sucker was tall,” Axel chimes in. 

Yvette and Axel had made it to the mountain top this morning, where Leina had met them and brought them to the small cave we now rest in. Leina had explained as much, with less words of course and less interruptions. 

“Good things the game makers decided to include mountains this year,” Axel says. 

A flash of panic jolts me. “They usually do,” I say. “The last four games have, besides higher ground is an advantage. Less likely tributes will sneak up on us.” I glance at Leina, her expression unreadable. I have to be more careful like she is.

The next second Axel complains that he’s starving so we split up to gather food. Because Axel volunteers the men for hunting, he and I go down into the valley as the girls are left in charge of gathering water and berries.

“We’ll be eating good tonight,” Axel beams. In no time we’ve managed to set a few different traps to catch small animals. 

“You seem confident,” I say. 

“You have to be, animals can sense that sort of thing.”

I laugh at the image of a huge deer, like the one I encountered, smelling us for some reason. I take it as a good sign. It’s important to keep a sense of humor. 

While we wait, Axel decides to piss in a nearby bush. “Do you think the capitol is watching me right now?” 

I stifle a laugh. “Probably.” Before he can say anything else I hear a noise in the distance. “Axel quit pissing I can’t hear.”

“I can’t just stop,” he says. 

I ignore him and creep towards the sound. I come to the fourth trap we set and find a fawn caught by the leg. The small animal bucks its hind legs trying to shake the rope off. 

Axel comes up behind me. “No fucking way.” We both know the trap is designed to choke small animals dead like rabbits or squirrels.

We watch the animal in disbelief until he breaks the silence. “What now?”

“We have to kill it,” I say matter-of-factly. But is it something I’m capable of? I pull a knife from my belt and hand a second one to Axel. “You go around the back and I’ll distract it okay?”

He agrees and circles the animal while I keep it’s attention. I whistle at it, it’s black eyes like shiny beads train on me in fear. At that moment Axel approaches it and a branch snaps under his foot. The fawn startles and puts up a good fight, kicking and thrashing in all directions. When I see an opportunity I stab at its neck. Axel delivers the second blow.

The sun is starting to set by the time we hike up the mountain. Axel holds the front legs and I hold its hind legs. The fawn is small but heavy, probably the offspring of the deer I spotted earlier. A sense of pity lingers in my stomach as I watch it’s head hang limp but I remind myself how good this will look for the cameras.

“Wait until the girls see this,” Axel says. 

When we reach the cave opening, he presents our catch with pride. Yvette and Leina stare at us in awe. But there’s little time left before dark and we decide to get to work. Leina tends to the fire and the rest of us use my knives to butcher the animal.

“Gross,” Yvette shrieks, turning her head into my shoulder.

I feel my face go hot. “It's not that bad,” I lie. Across from me Axel mockingly raises his eyebrows. I roll my eyes and focus on the task at hand. After we’ve skinned the animal, removed it’s guts, and cut the hooves off we take it to the fire.

The meat is more than enough for the four of us. Once it’s roasted, we dig in except for Leina who decides to put out the fire. I motion for her to join us but she points at the sky, at the trails of smoke that now fade no longer risking our location. I nod in approval.

That night we watch the anthem play with full stomachs. It's the end of day two but there are no fallen tributes in the sky. A pretty uneventful day for the audience. We pass around Leina’s flask, taking one last drink of water before calling it a night. The four of us settle in the cave against the back wall. Axel next to Yvette and Leina next to me. 

My eyes adjust to the dark after a while. I study the ceiling of the cave, my head resting on my backpack as a makeshift pillow, when there’s a tap on my shoulder. I turn to Leina and extend my arm.

“NO DEAD = TRAPS.” She traces the letter in my palm, tickling my skin.

I understand completely. The game makers have all sorts of ways of keeping the games interesting. This year they got especially creative with the wicked experiments they call mutts. I recall the pages of information she gave me, not the best thing to cross my mind before bed.

“MOVE TOMORROW,” I trace on her wrist.

“OK.”

I turn away from her. Instinctively my hand settles on my belt where my knives are and after a while I fall into a deep sleep

*******

_“What happened?” Daniela sobs. She’s wearing her school uniform, her eyes red from crying. _

_“I don’t know, I told you,” I hold out my arms. “I wasn’t there.”_

_“You’re lying,” she straightens up. “Be honest Cadmus, no one can hear us.”_

_We don’t know that, I say to myself. Even here on the rooftop of our apartment building, it isn’t safe. I can’t take that risk. “Why the hell are you asking me then? If you’re just going to believe whatever you want.” _

_“He was my friend too,” Daniela says._

_“No, he was my friend,” I spit out the words. “He hardly knew you, he thought you were just another girl trying to get in his pants.”_

_I regret the words as soon as I say them. I turn my back on her, tears sting at my eyes._

*******

A scream startles me awake. My breathing is ragged and I’m covered in sweat. Around me, Axel and Yvette stir confirming my worst fear. My heart sinks as a second scream rips through the night. “Cadmus! Help!” I recognize Daniela's voice.


	9. Lifeline

“Daniela!” I call out into the night. My hands shake at my sides as I listen, trying to place her voice. _Why would the game makers grab her? Do they know Leina and I cheated? Or worse, do they know I was with Jacob the night he broke in?_I start up the mountain along a narrow path between boulders. I’m halfway up when Daniela screams from somewhere below.

“What’s going on?” Axel appears with Yvette in tow.

“They have my friend!” I sprint past them as I chase her voice.

“Stop!” Axel shouts.

But it's too late. My foot slips the rock and my weight sends me over the edge. For a second I’m certain I’ll die then Axel is there grasping fist-fullls of my shirt. I slam into the side of the rock, my fingernails clawing for purchase. Axel grunts as he struggles to hold on to me, then Yvette is there and together they hoist my back up.

Before I can catch my breath a new voice joins Daniela’s. “Axel!” A man cries out.

Axel’s eyes widen. “My brother he’s--”

“He’s not here,” I say. Realization dawns on me. “It’s a mutt, look.” I point at the flock of birds that circle above. _Jabberjays._

“Axel help!” “Cadmus!” “Yvette!” Their beaks open in sync with each scream.

Yvette turns to us, “That’s my mom.” Her voice trembles.

I place a hand on her shoulder. “I doubt they have our families.” 

“We don’t know that,” Axel says. “They could have rounded them up. Jabberjays copy after all.”

He’s right. We don’t know for sure. But why go through the trouble when they have deadlier mutts they could sick on us? Rage courses through me. “No, they’re messing with us. They know Leina can’t hear them so they didn’t bother with her. Cover your ears!”

That’s when the jabberjays react. The flock dives down, swarming around our heads, their screams right at our ears.

“Back inside!” Yvette shouts over the noise. She turns and then a shriek escapes her. Before she hits the floor I see the girl from one, Scarlett, holding a blood-stained dagger.

“No!” Axel screams. Without missing a beat he rushes her. Scarlett swings the dagger but Axel sidesteps and grabs hold of her wrist. 

Before I can react an arrow whizzes past me, missing me by inches. Up above, on a jut of rock Marcus pulls the bowstring back. This time I’m ready. I dodge an arrow, drop to the floor and roll behind a boulder. His third arrow misses and so does his fourth. The fifth never comes.

I peer around the boulder, expecting a surprise shot but Marcus is gone. Instead Leina stands in his place. When she sees me, she jumps down and runs over. 

Yards away, Axel stands over Scarlett's body with her dagger in hand. I let out a sigh, relieved he’s okay. Even if she was a career Axel managed to overpower her. Before I can wonder where Marcus went I run to Yvette.

“You're gonna be okay,” I say. With both hands I apply pressure to her side but the blood soaks through my fingers. “What can we do?” I turn to Leina as she drops next to me.

Leina moves my hands to survey the wound then places them back. Her brow furrowed in concentration. Then she motions with her hand, touching the crown of her head with a V and curling her fingers where her hair would fall. It’s the sign she uses to identify Ophelia. In her writings she mentioned she'd use it to call for help, when she or I needed it. 

We wait a moment unsure if help will come. Then Axel spots the small parachute in the sky. He grabs it and pulls a medical kit from the basket. Neither of us know what to do with one so we hand it to Leina. She digs through the kit and begins cleaning the wound. As she works, she reassures Yvette as best she can, with a gentle squeeze of the hand or a sympathetic look.

Yvette’s eyes flutter open. She’s lost so much blood already. “Water,” she says, her voice hoarse. Leina shakes her head at me so I put down the flask. Instead I open the packages she sets out and when she points to the long curved needle, I hand it to her.

Axel and I wince as we watch the needle enter Yvette’s skin again and again until the wound is sewn shut. Leina works slowly but with great care. I’m not sure if it's her first time doing this; her file mentioned her dad was a medic but he died shortly after she was born. 

Leina cuts the threat with my knife and points to the medicine, a small package with four pills. I hand one to her and she props up Yvette just enough to swallow one, allowing her a sip of water. Leina then sits back, letting out a deep sigh. 

Within a few moments the medicine seems to dull Yvette’s pain so Axel and I help her back into the cave. Dawn is only hours away but she’ll need to rest before we can plan our next move. As we settle her on the cave floor, I place my jacket over her. “Feel better,” I say. She mumbles something back, half-asleep.

Axel volunteers to stay with her so I join Leina outside. We sit on a rock, watching the sunrise color the horizon bright red. Bands of clouds float over us.The view lifts my spirits despite the situation. “That was kind of you to use a sponsorship for Yvette.”

Leina nods in understanding. She turns back to the horizon, lost in thought. Then she holds up seven fingers. At first I think she means the District but no, there are seven tributes left now. “Seven tributes,” I confirm. 

A knot forms in my stomach. Below, a flock of birds soar from tree to tree, their song echoing over the valley. As I watch them the jabberjays come to mind. I don’t remember when the makers called them off. Maybe after Scarlett stabbed Yvette, or as soon as Marcus began shooting arrows--yeah it was probably then. Marucs wouldn’t have had a clear shot with them in the way. I curse the makers for helping them find us. Now it’s clear that’s exactly what they did. Leina agrees when I share this with her. But then a more important question lingers in my mind.

“What happened to Marcus?” I ask.

She holds up her hands and makes a pushing motion.

“Oh,” I nod nonchalantly. “Thanks.” 

Then Axel emerges. “She’s resting now,” he says. 

“Do you think she can make it down the mountain?” I ask. I hate to be inconsiderate but the mountain that once felt like the safest point in the arena now feels like a trap. How easy would it be for the makers to start a fire under us? Or to send mutts leaving us nowhere to run?

“What’s the hurry?” He’s taken aback. 

“We can’t stay here man. Last night they sent jabberjays to draw us out into the career’s trap. Who knows what they’ll send next?” I realize I pointed at Scarlett’s body that lies rigid not three yards from us. 

“You’re right,” Axel says. His eyes remain fixed on the body. “I’ll go see if there’s an easier way down the mountain.”

*******

“How are you feeling,” I ask. Yvette is awake when I enter the cave. Her eyes are tired but she manages a smile.

“A little dizzy from the medicine.”

“Are you hungry? We have some leftovers from last night.” 

“I don’t think I can eat right now, I don’t feel too good. Where are the others?” 

“They’re outside,” I pause for a moment. “Listen, we talked about it. And we’re planning on leaving the mountain, it isn’t safe anymore. Only if you feel okay to move?”

“I think I can,” she says. “But I’ll need help.”

“Yeah, we’ll help you down. Axel even went down for water earlier and found a smoother path down.”

I let out a sigh. “I'll be right back okay?” I run out and find Axel trying to sign something to Leina. She only smiles back politely. “Hey, Yvette’s good to move,” I say. “ Should we leave now?” 

Leina nods. She looks through her binoculars for a moment, after which she points south. I nod encouragingly. But inside I panic, the map I studied is muddy at best. I don’t know what lies south from here but I'm better off trusting her.

After we pack our supplies, including our leftover deer meat, we start down the west side of the mountain. Axel helps Yvette down the winding path he found. Thankfully it requires no climbing and the terrain is pretty even. Once we reach the base, we round the mountain, following Leina’s lead. 

It’s mid-day, I think. The sun is now high in the sky, beating down on us and drenching us in sweat. But we reserve our water for Yvette. After a while longer, I relive Axel. Yvette places her arm over my shoulder and I support her weight as we trudge through the trees.

“Hey look,” Axel says, he taps Leina’s shoulder.

The hovercraft hardly makes any noise as it appears over the mountain. Its metal claw drops and collects a body, moves a bit, and collects the other. 

“Goodbye tributes from one,” Axel says in a monotone voice. Sarcastic but forced. I realize he’s hardly said a word in the last hour. 

Yvette speaks up, her voice weak. “You guys killed two careers, that's impressive. And you, you killed my boyfriend.” She glares at Leina jokingly.

Leina measures her reaction, then cracks a smile. I watch her turn, shrugging off the fact she killed someone. _She must be braver than me,_ I say to myself. _I could barely kill a deer._

“The guy was a coward,” I say. “He stood far away, letting the girl from his district attack us.” 

“Don’t you know you’re not supposed to speak ill of the dead?” Yvette teases. 

I give a half-smile and focus on something else. Anything else.


End file.
